


Bring Me the Dawn

by wickedlupin



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, werewolf violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26256850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedlupin/pseuds/wickedlupin
Summary: There's an old legend surrounding the ruins of Hamil. Jude's desire to find the truth brings him to the orchard, but what he finds there only sends him on a deeper search for answers.Wolves are pack creatures, and yet the very wolf inside of Ludger forces him into isolation every month. A doctor with gentle, calloused hands reminds him that it's worth it to hold onto hope.{Xillia Week Day 2: Dawn Clime | Hamil | Isolation}
Relationships: Elle Mel Marta & Julius Will Kresnik, Elle Mel Marta & Leia Rolando, Elle Mel Marta & Ludger Will Kresnik, Jude Mathis & Leia Rolando, Jude Mathis & Ludger Will Kresnik, Julius Will Kresnik & Ludger Will Kresnik
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13
Collections: Tales of Xillia Week





	Bring Me the Dawn

The first light of dawn peeked through the trunks of the apple trees. Jude had heard tales of a time when this land was a carefully tended orchard, with the trees lined in perfectly straight rows. The town on the other side of it had been known for its plump, ripe fruit. The legend within Leronde was that the town of Hamil had been wiped out overnight by wolves, sometime before Jude was born. Out of fear, no one had ever tried to claim the land. Now the trees grew however they chose to, broken free from the restraints humans had once attempted to put on them.

When they were kids, Jude and Leia had occasionally snuck into the orchard to play. Together, they had investigated the rotting remains of platforms built up in the trees. The only danger they ever faced was in that of being curious children—after all, wolves weren’t native to the area. Jude had decided very early on that it was a ridiculous legend, but curiosity kept him going back to the orchard, searching for clues that might lead him to the real story behind Hamil’s fate.

He never found the answers, and as he got older, more important matters took over. All his time became devoted to medicine, to working in the clinic under his father. He stopped thinking about wolves, instead focusing on anatomy, treatment plans, clinical records—

Until a patient came to them in critical condition, claiming to have suffered a wolf attack.

At first it was only one. The next month, there were three. Panic spread through Leronde, as the older generations recalled the legends about how Hamil had fallen.

Now, for the first time in years, Jude had returned to the orchard for answers.

“I know you were always convinced it couldn’t be wolves,” Leia said nervously from beside him, where they walked in the gentle morning light, “but what else could’ve made those marks, Jude? You’ve studied bites way more than I have, and even I could tell those teeth patterns were canine.”

“No, you’re right,” Jude assured her. In place of the legend he had always refuted, he was now provided with fact—but that didn’t make the situation any clearer. “But if they aren’t here in the orchard, where are they living? The ruins of Hamil? The _seafalls?_ Nothing around here is suited for wolves, it just doesn’t add up.”

“If you eliminate the impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable—”

“—Must be the truth,” Jude finished for her, shaking his head as she laughed at him. “I know, I know.”

“Maybe they _are_ staying in Hamil,” Leia mused, looking up at the golden morning haze that streaked through the leaves above them. “Maybe they huffed and they puffed, and they blew the houses down—”

_“Leia.”_

“—and then they rebuilt them for themselves! ...Huh?”

Between the trees up ahead, the figure of a man lay among the fallen leaves. From their distance, Jude couldn’t make out any features, except for the starkness of red blood against the muted colors around them. He broke into a run.

  


* * *

  


Ludger’s bones ached. All his joints felt like they’d been bent backwards until they snapped, and then messily glued back onto him. His wrists and ankles were raw, probably bloodied to a pulp, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes to check.

The worst pain was in his right shoulder. Breathing alone made it throb and protest. Futilely, he tried holding his breath for as long as he could, but when his lungs couldn’t take anymore, he gasped sharply, and gagged on the resulting pain.

A door creaked open— _Elle._

Ludger finally forced his eyes open, but as the room around him came into focus, panic settled in, briefly numbing him to his pain. This wasn’t their basement—this wasn’t their house at all.

“You’re awake,” a voice acknowledged him gently. Ludger whipped his head to the side to find the speaker, and immediately regretted the action. The pain from the movement was blinding.

The voice belonged to a stranger in a white lab coat. He seemed calm in all the ways Ludger was not.

“Where am I?” Ludger choked.

“Mathis Clinic, in Leronde,” the man told him. He reached over and placed two fingers gently on Ludger’s neck, checking his pulse. Ludger let him.

“You’re a doctor?”

The man nodded. “My name is Jude. My friend and I found you in Hamil’s orchard. It seems like you’ve been attacked. Do you remember anything?”

“The orchard…?”

All the breath left Ludger’s lungs, and he struggled to sit up.

“Hey, wait!” Jude told him, “You shouldn’t move, you’re badly wounded.”

If he was found in the orchard, that meant he’d broken out of the basement again.

Elle hadn’t found him first, this time.

An image of blood-matted pigtails played out behind his eyes, tiny arms lying limp on the ground.

“Was there a little girl with me?” Ludger asked urgently, gripping the doctor’s shoulder.

“A girl…?”

The lack of recognition told him all he needed to know. He ignored the protests of his legs as he shoved the doctor aside and staggered to the door.

“Sir, please, you aren’t well enough to go out!” the doctor insisted, but Ludger ignored him. Other lab coat-clad people were in the hallway, but Ludger rushed past them, too. He needed to be fast. If they tried to grab him, attempted to stop him, would he be able to fight them off?

“Hey—hey, where are you going?!” a young, brown-haired nurse called after him.

“Jude, control your patient,” another man’s voice said sternly, disapprovingly, but Ludger had made it to the front door. He forced his legs into a run, taking him in the direction of the sweet scent of the orchard.

He had gotten out before, and that was always risky. Every month, he’d feared the worst—that the monster inside of him would find Elle before she could find safety. She was fast. She was smart. She knew to stay out of his way if he broke through the chains, she knew the best places to hide. She’d always been safe before. But the last two months, when he woke up under the apple trees instead of in the old, grimy basement, she’d been the first to find him. She could always sniff him out.

The thought of what could have kept her away this time filled him with more fear than he’d ever known.

“Elle!” Ludger shouted hoarsely into the trees. His legs were shaking, threatening to bring him down. _“Elle!”_

Premature grief gripped at his heart. He felt hopeless. After the accident half a year ago, he’d tried to keep going for her. He should have known he would ruin that, too.

A distant howl reached his ears, and his legs found strength again, his heart reached out to the shreds of hope that were escaping him and latched on with a steel grip.

Dead wolves couldn’t howl.

  


* * *

  


The little village of Hamil was long dead, and long overgrown. The only life that remained in the town was in the weeds and vines that had reclaimed the wooden houses, creeping in through the old, shattered windows and unhinged doors. Similar to the orchard, there were no longer carefully measured rows, or neatly kept gardens.

That was, except for one house, nearly hidden in the center of the village. The front steps had been swept, the broken windows boarded up. A fresh patch of earth had been plowed off to one side of the steps, growing with tomatoes, bell peppers, and squash.

Jude stood facing the house, looking up at the peeling paint and rotting wood. It had only been a guess that had led him here, but the clear presence of _someone_ actively living in Hamil meant he had to be at least partially right.

As he approached the front steps, his eyes landed on another patch of upturned earth on the other side. Instead of a vegetable garden, however, the only thing the earth bore was a scattering of picked flowers, and a bright, ripe tomato.

His foot had barely touched the first step, when the sound of small footfalls came from around the side of the deck. A young girl dashed out from the side of the house and threw her arms out in front of the door.

“Leave Ludger alone!” she shouted. “He’s doing his best, he’s not a bad dog!”

Jude hesitated, then chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sure your dog is… a good boy,” he told her. “Do you live here?”

The girl’s eyebrows were pulled together in angry determination. She studied Jude, and nodded once.

“Are your parents home?”

The girl looked skeptical. “Are you gonna try to take my daddy away?”

“No, of course not,” Jude assured her. “I’m a doctor from Leronde. Is your father hurt? I helped a man this morning, I just wanted to check in and make sure he was alright.”

“You want to… help my daddy?”

Jude nodded, and she dropped her outstretched arms.

“...You promise?”

“I promise.”

She stared at him for another moment, then nodded, like she was reassuring herself. “You can come inside.”

Jude finally climbed the steps to join her, and she opened the door to show him into the reclaimed house. Broken light fixtures hung from the ceiling, but there was no electricity to connect to them. There were candle stubs set out, which Jude assumed they lit when darkness fell.

“Ludger’s room is this way,” the girl told him, leading him down the hall.

“Ludger… your dog?” Jude thought aloud, but she shook her head.

“No, not my dog. My _daddy.”_

She pushed open a wooden door. Inside, on a lumpy-looking mattress, lay the silver-haired patient he’d helped that morning.

The girl knelt down beside the mattress. “Ludger, there’s a doctor here to see you,” she said.

The man tried to lift his head, but he winced in pain, and it returned to the mattress.

“Stay still,” Jude told him, setting his medical bag down on the floor so he could kneel next to the girl.

Green eyes were locked on him, fearful, like a cornered animal. “How did you find us?” he asked weakly.

Jude carefully unpacked some of the contents of his bag, laying them out beside him so he could re-clean and re-bandage his wounds. “I took an educated guess,” he said. “I know everyone in Leronde. I knew you weren’t from in town. And due to recent events connected with the orchard…” Jude smiled lightly at him. “I thought I might find you here.”

This didn’t seem to ease the man’s concerns.

“Your name is Ludger?” Jude continued.

“Yes. And you’re…”

“Jude,” he reminded him. “You were awfully panicked this morning, I don’t expect you to remember.”

“...Right.”

“Were you looking for her?” Jude asked, nodding his head to the girl beside him.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad she’s okay,” he said sincerely.

Ludger took a shuddering breath. “...Me too.”

“I won’t get hurt,” the girl said in a small voice. “I’m fast, and I’m good at hiding, I told you.”

“...Were you running from something?” Jude asked, fighting to keep his voice calm, when he was right on the brink of answers. “Whatever attacked you?”

Ludger and the girl both stayed quiet.

“I know it must have been scary,” Jude continued, “But anything you remember can help. Whatever it is has been attacking people in Leronde, too.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ludger’s downcast eyes whipped up to look at him, filled with unadulterated fear and overwhelming guilt. “It’s attacked people?!”

The girl’s fingers were wrapped in the sheets on the side of the mattress, her knuckles white, head ducked. Tears fell from her eyes and landed on the backs of her hands. “I didn’t want to tell you.” Her voice wavered, and her lip trembled.

“Elle…” Ludger’s voice was desperate, anguished.

“W-what were you supposed to do?!” Elle sobbed, looking up at him. “You didn’t mean to! You’re _not a bad dog!”_

The pieces clicked together almost impossibly inside Jude’s head. It was an explanation he’d never expected, one that still didn’t fully make sense—and yet, whatever remained, however improbable, had to be the truth.

Jude placed a gentle hand on the girl’s back, between her shoulder blades. “Elle—isn’t it?” he asked her, and she turned her wide, tearful eyes on him. “I need to clean Ludger’s wounds. Can you bring me a bowl of water?”

Elle looked nervously between him and Ludger, then nodded quickly and hopped up to run out of the room.

Jude’s eyes returned to Ludger, who was staring down at the bloody bandages around his wrists.

“Ludger,” Jude said quietly. “...Were you the one who attacked those people?”

Tears welled up in Ludger’s eyes, and his head barely moved in a single, tiny nod.

“But you didn’t know?”

A very slight shake of the head answered him.

“How?”

Ludger choked back a sob, and closed his eyes. “...I’m a werewolf,” he admitted simply.

If all the evidence hadn’t been pointing toward this conclusion, Jude would have thought it some sort of ridiculous prank.

“You have every right to condemn me,” Ludger continued, the words tumbling from his mouth rapidly, “You _should_ condemn me. I’ve hurt people. I’m a danger to everyone. Just please promise me someone will look after Elle—”

“I’m not here to condemn anyone,” Jude cut in.

“I could _kill—”_

“No one’s been killed.”

Ludger mouth hung open, a response trapped somewhere on his tongue.

“Everyone’s recovered,” Jude assured him, “Except for you.”

“...Not everyone,” Ludger said quietly, and Jude caught a glimpse of a wound deeper than anything he could bandage on the surface.

The door swung open, and Elle ran back into the room, a bowl of water sloshing in her arms. She set it on the floor next to Jude and fell down onto her knees on the wood floor, eyes silently locked on Ludger.

“I’m going to remove your bandages, alright Ludger?” Jude told him gently. He received a quiet hum in response.

Jude carefully began unwrapping Ludger’s wrists. They had been rubbed raw by something harsh, with large chunks of flesh missing. Scar tissue lay around and beneath the wounds—this was far from Ludger’s first injury like this.

“What are these from?” Jude asked him, as he wet a towel in the bowl to gently dab at the wounds.

“Chains,” Ludger answered him.

Jude’s stomach turned at the implication. “...You chain yourself up?”

“I try to.”

“It usually works!” Elle piped up. “It always did, before…”

“Before…?” Jude prompted.

“There was an accident,” Ludger explained. “It… affected the wolf. It’s gotten stronger, more upset. The basement isn’t boarded up enough to keep me in, anymore.”

“There has to be some way to keep you contained without wounding you like this,” Jude said in quiet horror. “And your shoulder…”

“From breaking down the door, I’m guessing.”

“You really don’t remember anything?”

Ludger shook his head. “The wolf takes over. Sometimes I can remember things like dreams… but nothing factual. My consciousness disappears somewhere.”

“But Julius could keep his wolf calm, at least a little,” Elle said softly, and Ludger closed his eyes.

“I’ve never been able to do that, though,” he said. “Julius tried everything—” he cut off, and Elle shook her head sharply.

“Ludger, don’t!” she shouted, slapping her hands down on the mattress. “You’re not a bad dog!”

Before Jude’s eyes, her limbs twisted and changed, and fur sprouted from her skin. Her nose elongated into a muzzle, until a wolf pup sat in her place. She crawled up onto the mattress and settled in the crook of Ludger’s arm, her head laying on his good shoulder.

Ludger’s anguished expression returned to one of fear, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes as he took his wrist from Jude to protectively lay it atop the wolf’s head.

“...She can control it that much?” Jude asked in awe. “Is it genetic?”

Ludger relaxed just slightly, eased by Jude’s lack of malice.

“The wolf is genetic. But I don’t know how she can change so easily like this… Julius said he’d never seen one of us with so much control.”

“Julius?” Jude finally asked.

“My brother,” Ludger offered simply, and Jude nodded.

“That means it’s possible, though, doesn’t it? If she can control it this much, and it sounds like your brother could control it at least some, then if you had something to help you…”

“There’s nothing that can help me,” Ludger said quickly, and wolf-Elle nuzzled her head closer to him, in a clear attempt at comfort.

“How can you be so sure?” Jude challenged, “You can’t give up hope.”

“My brother gave _everything_ to help me.” Ludger’s voice was heavy, his fingers pressing into Elle’s fur. “Trust me, nothing worked.”

  


* * *

  


Pain. The same pain as always, like ticks off a checklist—bones, joints, wrists and ankles. But the pain from transformation, the pain from the struggle, was usually overshadowed by deeper wounds, self-inflicted by the wolf’s frustration at being contained.

Memories returned slowly to his sluggish brain. Julius had talked him into a last resort, an attempt to keep his wounds minimal each month. It was a desperate reach, a blatant risk, but Ludger’s wolf had become so unruly, he had begun to fear with each coming full moon that he might just not wake up again.

The pain was significantly less, this time—maybe Julius’s theory had been right, after all. By locking themselves up together, instead of individually, they could distract each other. Wolves were pack creatures, after all. Two brothers might play together, find another way to spend the full moon other than self-mutilation.

Ludger peeled his eyes open, and turned his head to the side, searching for Julius’s sleeping form. It was still dark, only the faintest light of dawn filtering in through the tiny basement window. Dust particles danced through the streaks of gray light. Across the concrete floor, Julius lay on his back, limbs spread out around him.

As Ludger’s eyes came into focus, he realized something was wrong. Thick blood was streaked across the dirty concrete, but Ludger bore no wounds.

He brought himself up on his knees and stumbled toward Julius’s form.

Blood. Endless blood, so much that it obscured his features, made him almost unrecognizable. If Ludger tried, he could pretend he wasn’t looking down at his beloved brother. His guardian. The one who had raised him, cleaned his wounds, helped him learn how to live with the wolf inside of him. The man who shared a love of tomatoes, who had a scary face, but a gentle laugh.

No matter how Ludger wanted to pretend it wasn’t Julius on the floor before him, the fact remained that there was no breath left in his lungs, no beat left in his heart.

  


* * *

  


Elle Kresnik was a good dog. She could hold still for blood samples, even though it hurt. Even though she had to do it _twice!_ She didn’t like the needles when she was human, and they seemed even scarier when she was a wolf, but the girl Doctor Jude brought with him today was nice. She was good at drawing blood, Elle thought, even though she’d never had blood drawn by anyone else to compare her with.

She made Elle laugh when she was human, and scratched behind her ears when she was a wolf, and then the needles felt less scary. Doctor Jude was nice to Elle, and he was nice to Ludger, and he wasn’t scared of them, even a little. So Elle decided she could trust Nurse Leia by extension.

“All done!” Leia chimed, pulling the needle easily from Elle’s arm. “You did great, Elle, thank you!”

Elle poked a little at the dot of blood on her arm, and nodded determinedly. “I’m pretty strong, huh?”

“You sure are!” Leia took Elle’s arm gently and put a piece of cotton over the tiny hole.

“What’s Doctor Jude gonna do with my blood, anyway?” Elle asked. “How’s it gonna help Ludger? He has plenty of blood already.”

Leia laughed and stuck an adhesive bandage on Elle’s arm, patting it gently. “Jude’s gonna look for differences in your blood when you’re in each form, and try to use what he finds to make a supplement for Ludger to help him be more… himself when he’s a wolf.”

“He can do that?!”

“He’s hoping so,” Leia said with a confident smile. “And Jude is pretty smart, and he’s got determination unlike anyone else when it comes to helping people. If anyone can find a way, he can!”

“Jude is super cool,” Elle said, putting her hands on her hips in a decisive manner. “I like you guys. It’s always just been me, Ludger, and Julius, but you guys can stay!”

Leia beamed. “I’m glad I have your approval, Elle!” She sounded genuine. Elle liked that. Leia didn’t treat her like a kid, or a puppy, she just treated her like Elle. She smiled back at her.

“You gotta get my blood to Jude, though, don’t you? I have some things I need to do today, too. I got a busy schedule, you know.” Elle crossed her arms, feeling very important.

“Sure thing! Is it alright if I come back to see you, though?” Leia asked her.

“I already told you!” Elle said, a little exasperated. “You and Jude can stay! You get a pass.”

  


* * *

  


Ludger was used to his wounds healing slowly. It seemed his body just couldn’t keep up—they’d finally start to close, only to be reopened with the next full moon. Nasty scars and gaping wounds were just the norm for him. He’d grown accustomed to living with them—mostly.

Jude seemed a lot more bothered by this concept than he ever had been. It was sort of jarring to see a stranger so concerned about his condition—but he supposed Jude was becoming less of a stranger, now. He came by most every day, even though his work at the clinic never eased up.

Jude’s hands were kind, and not just when working with bandages. The more Ludger got to know him, the more Jude showed him support with small touches—a light brush of his foot under the table, a gentle push on his (unhurt) shoulder.

Ludger wasn’t used to letting outsiders in. Growing up, he and Julius had moved around frequently in an attempt to keep their wolves under wraps—anyone who’d ever tried to let themselves in had been shut out again after a couple months.

When Elle was born, the outsiders became nosier. The terror Ludger felt preceding each transformation was nothing compared to the prying eyes on his daughter, and the comments that her teeth seemed a bit sharp, or her ears a bit pointy.

It wasn’t Elle’s fault—the wolf that Ludger and Julius had always been ashamed of was simply a natural part of her. How was she supposed to know when it was appropriate to be a human, and when to be a wolf?

Ludger didn’t want her to _have_ to feel ashamed of the wolf. So they’d moved as far from the outsiders as they could. He still wasn’t sure if it had been the right decision. Without Julius here, he wasn’t really sure of anything anymore.

Jude’s voice brought him back from his thoughts, his gentle hands pulling away from his carefully re-bandaged shoulder. “There,” he said softly. “It’s healing nicely.”

“All thanks to you,” Ludger told him, rolling his shoulder experimentally. It still stung, but it was nothing like it had been the first week following the incident.

“Me? I’ve hardly done anything you couldn’t have done yourself,” Jude insisted humbly. “Your body’s doing all the work. It’s really incredible.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Ludger told him. “You’ve already done so much for us. Elle and I are really grateful.”

“I wish I could do more,” Jude said, then quickly shook his head. “No—I _will_ do more. With the blood sample we’ve collected from Elle, I can keep searching for a way to help. Just hang in there until I find it.”

Jude’s determination filled him with a surge of hope that Ludger had thought was long gone. The corners of his mouth turned upward, while something light and airy danced in his chest.

The doctor continued to work with that silent dedication, turning his attention from Ludger’s shoulder to his other wounds.

“By the way, Ludger…” he said after a time, “Do you know what happened to the residents of Hamil?”

There was an old curiosity in his voice, a hunger for answers to sate his own interest, rather than to fuel his desire to help. Ludger wished he could provide those answers, simply to see how Jude’s expression might transform.

“I don’t know the details,” he admitted. “Julius knew Hamil would be deserted before we got here, though. I think he grew up nearby… before we lived together.”

“Do you think he was here when it happened?” Jude’s amber eyes were wide as he thought, hands momentarily stilled on Ludger’s bandages.

“I think so. He never talked about it, and I never knew them, but… if wolves really did wipe out the people here, it was probably our family that did it.”

Jude’s forehead creased, the curious twinkle in his eye dissolving into something more melancholy.

“I guess the answer lies with him now, doesn’t it?”

“Probably for the best,” Ludger suggested, and Jude smiled.

  


* * *

  


Leia gazed up at the hazy sunset from where she sat on the porch steps, waiting for Jude to finish his work and walk home. Hamil was lonely, isolated, but it sure was beautiful in its own, overgrown way. Smaller saplings were attempting to grow over the dirt road, from fruit that had rolled closer to the run-down houses, or brought here by animals, left to grow as they pleased with the absence of human community. Leia wondered how many years it would take for the entire village to become lost in a forest of apple trees.

Movement caught Leia’s eye from the orchard down the path, and a wolf pup scampered out, with something in her jaws. Leia smiled.

“What’ve you got, Elle?” she called out, as the wolf bounded toward the house. As she came nearer, Leia could make out that it was a messy bundle of wildflowers.

Elle passed by the steps to the mound of dirt on the far side of the house—the one that wasn’t a garden. She dropped the flowers, then transformed so she could carefully arrange them with her human hands.

“Flowers for Julius,” Elle answered, delayed by her transformation. Leia blinked, and it finally donned on her that what she was looking at was a _grave._

She stood and walked down the remaining steps to crouch beside Elle. “That’s Julius?” she asked softly, and the girl nodded.

Leia touched her fingers lightly to the dirt, then quickly clapped her hands together, bowing her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Julius!” she nearly shouted, “Please pardon the intrusion! You have a lovely home, and a lovely family!”

Elle smiled and stood up. She seemed pleased—Leia was glad.

“He likes tomatoes even more than Ludger,” she said, walking over to the garden to look at the small tomato plants. “I don’t know why. Tomatoes are gross. But I still always give Julius my portion, because Ludger eats plenty of them all on his own.” She picked a particularly ripe tomato, then returned to the grave and set it down with the flowers.

“I’m sure he’s grateful,” Leia assured her, and Elle nodded a bit.

“...I miss him. But when I talk to Ludger about him, he just gets sad, so I try not to say anything. I just come here and talk to Julius about it, instead.”

That was a crushing thought. Leia reached out and put her hand on Elle’s back. “I bet Ludger wants to talk about him, too. He’s just having a hard time.”

“I already know that,” Elle said, almost grumpily. Leia hesitated, her confident smile falling briefly, but Elle leaned into Leia’s loose embrace after a moment. “...Thanks for talking about him with me, Leia. Julius was really nice, even though he looked scary. You would have liked him, if you got to know him.”

“Ah, if only we’d known to come down here sooner!” Leia agreed, shaking her head, smile returning. “We were never too far away. We could have known you all earlier—but I’m really glad we’re getting to know you and Ludger now.”

Elle’s pigtails were soft against Leia’s arm as she turned to hug her.

  


* * *

  


Howls rose up from the basement. Jude sat at the rickety kitchen table, veterinary books and research tools spread out before him—pages and pages of printed results from blood tests, searching for every abnormality that could potentially be counteracted using pharmaceuticals. Jude reached into every corner of his brain for any useful knowledge it may contain, as he slowly linked together more and more pieces.

Elle, in her wolf form, lay under his chair, her chin resting on the floor, nose pointed toward the stairs that led down to the locked, boarded basement door.

It was dangerous to be in such close quarters, even with the locked door between them. Jude had promised to bolt at the very first sign that the wolf could break out, but listening to the wolf’s behavior was the closest he could come to firsthand observation. He needed all the information he could gather.

And he was getting closer. He could feel it. His heart pounded as his hand scribbled out notes, ideas, concoctions of herbs and man-made medicines that, when combined, could affect the very specific brain that belonged to both homosapien and canine.

Every pained, desperate howl pushed him toward a breakthrough.

As dawn finally broke, and the moon took shelter behind the horizon, the howls died away.

“We have to wait ten minutes after the last howl,” Elle told Jude, as they waited just outside the door, “That’s the rule.”

“That’s a good rule,” Jude acknowledged, though it was agonizing to think of Ludger, broken and bleeding on the floor for ten more minutes, just for the sake of precaution. Even so, it was a risk they simply couldn’t take. “Do you usually take care of Ludger yourself after a full moon?”

Elle nodded. “Julius used to do most of it. He was never as beat up as Ludger was. But now… I do it myself. But that’s okay! I’m big enough, I can do it.”

“You’re strong, Elle,” Jude praised her, and she smiled. Jude leaned against the wall by the door, keeping an eye on his watch as he waited for the minutes to pass. “...What happened to Julius?”

Elle was quiet. Jude dropped his wrist, eyes focusing on the girl instead.

“Ludger was hurting himself a lot more,” Elle said slowly. Every word seemed to pain her. “Julius was usually in another basement, so they wouldn’t hurt each other, but he thought maybe if they were together, he could actually help. They never tried it before.”

Jude could guess the result. He squatted down so he was eye level with Elle. “...Did you find them, in the morning?”

Elle shook her head quickly. “Ludger woke up first. When I tried to come down, he shouted at me to stay put.” Her eyes welled up with tears at the memory. “His voice was scary.”

Jude pulled her into a hug, and Elle wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, holding on tight.

“I’m scared Ludger will go away, too. Just like Julius did. But you’re going to help, right, Jude?”

“I’m going to do everything I can,” Jude promised her, and she wiped her eyes with her palms.

“He’s really not a bad dog,” she insisted, and Jude smiled.

“I know,” he said. “You sure say that a lot, Elle.”

“Because it’s true!” she shouted. “Ludger used to say it to me, too. Sometimes I turned into a wolf at the wrong times, and we’d get in trouble. That was why we had to move out here, in the first place, and we were all alone. Because of me.

“But Ludger said we all had each other, so it was okay! And whenever I was sad about it, he told me I wasn’t a bad dog. And he was right, and I liked it here with Ludger and Julius, and it wasn’t lonely! But now… it is a little lonely, sometimes. But that’s not Ludger’s fault, you know? He’s trying his best. He’s a really _good_ dog.”

“I’m sure you’ve done a lot for him, Elle,” Jude told her gently. “You make him stronger. Losing Julius had to be rough on him, it would be on anyone. That sadness and guilt won’t just go away, but you help him keep going.”

Elle sniffled a bit, and flashed him a watery smile. “...It doesn’t feel as lonely, with you and Leia around, too.”

Jude rubbed the back of his head. “...I’m glad you think so.”

He glanced back at his watch. Twenty seconds to go.

“I think we’re safe,” he told Elle.

“It’s been ten minutes?”

“Yeah.” He started working on taking the boards and locks off the door. Elle’s little hands reached up to help him.

As soon as the door was open, Elle’s wolf form bolted inside, to Ludger’s side. Jude followed her, and crouched down beside Ludger’s broken body.

Elle was licking the wounds on his wrists. Three of the chains had broken, but one on his ankle remained, and the metal was lodged deep in his flesh. His arms and legs were covered in deep scratches and bite marks.

“We’ve got to bring a stop to this,” Jude said gently to Ludger’s crumpled, passed out form. He removed the final chain, and lifted the man into his arms to bring him upstairs.

Ludger stirred near the top of the steps, pain marring his features. He pried his eyes open enough to take in his surroundings, then let his head sink against Jude’s chest again.

“...Didn’t get out?” his weak voice questioned.

“No,” Jude confirmed, “The chains lasted this time.” The very words made him feel ill. The chain on his ankle had dug so deep, it had exposed a glimpse of white bone.

He lay Ludger down on his old, lumpy mattress and set to work cleaning him up. Elle remained dutifully by his side—he couldn’t imagine the girl tending to these sorts of wounds herself.

Ludger seemed barely conscious. He groaned and writhed sickeningly from the pain of Jude’s careful work, but he wasn’t quite responsive to words when Jude tried to speak to him.

“Give me another week,” Jude promised him, whether he could hear it or not, “I’m almost there. We’re almost there.”

  


* * *

  


Ludger sat atop the rickety old desk in the upstairs room that Jude had begun using as an additional research room. He watched as the man pored over his notes, double and triple-checking his dosages.

Jude was nervous about administering the drug he had put together. It was understandable—there wasn’t exactly a good subject to test it out on before going right for its intended client. Ludger was significantly less concerned. Whatever this drug might to do him could only be an improvement—and if it wasn’t, well, he’d probably had worse.

Nihilism aside, though, he had really grown to trust Jude. He was genuine and thorough. He was combing through for any mistakes, even now, because he _cared._

He finally turned to Ludger, unable to continue putting off the task. A perfectly measured syringe of liquid rested between his fingers.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his jaw set with careful determination.

“Ready,” Ludger promised him, surrendering his arm.

Jude took his arm in his gentle grip, and the needle of the syringe entered his vein, pumping the serum into his bloodstream.

When the syringe had emptied, Jude took a step back. “You might not feel the effects for a few minutes,” he told him. “I need you to tell me everything you feel, anything you experience. Alright?”

Ludger nodded obediently. “Sure.”

Jude returned to his notes and scribbled a few lines down in his neat, curly handwriting. Ludger peered out the window over Jude’s ducked head. The sun was just beginning to fall. Soon enough, streaks of pink and orange would stretch over the sky—

Ludger’s head throbbed, only once, but painfully. He brought his hand up to his forehead and winced.

Jude raised his head immediately. “Ludger?”

“I’m fine,” Ludger told him. The feeling had disappeared as quickly as it had come on. “My head just hurt for a second.”

“What did it feel like?”

Ludger hummed. “I don’t know, just… a really intense throb, over my whole head.”

“It could have been your cerebrum…”

Ludger wasn’t even about to try to reach back to 9th grade anatomy to remember the sections of the brain. He trusted Jude to get those parts right.

He was distracted from the notion by a tingling sensation down his spine. He opened his mouth to dictate it to Jude, but as his hand raised to touch the back of his neck, he froze. It was covered in thick, coarse hair. _Fur._

He didn’t need to say anything. Jude was already on his feet, walking around to examine him. “Does it hurt?” he asked, and Ludger quickly shook his head.

“No, it’s just… _there.”_

He’d never experienced himself with fur. His consciousness had always been long gone by the time it sprouted. He’d always known it was there, but touching it with his fingers, being aware of it, struck him with an odd sense of identity.

“Your cerebrum houses your consciousness,” Jude explained to him, with an air of merely thinking out loud. “My guess is that the wolf is primarily housed there, as well… when your head throbbed, it might have been the wolf’s attempt to take over, but it was unsuccessful…”

Familiar fear bubbled up in Ludger’s chest. “The wolf?! But it’s broad daylight, the moon isn’t even close to full—”

“The drug might have forced it out… stay calm, Ludger.”

But Ludger was anything but calm. They didn’t know what the drug was going to do. Sure, Jude had a good idea, he’d created it for a purpose, but if the wolf was trying to come out, what if Ludger lost control?

As the fear gripped him, he felt himself fading. A rumble built in his chest, and darkness closed in around him. His hands and feet ached as the bones twisted, lengthening and shortening themselves to become something entirely new.

_“...ger. Ludger!”_

The room around him spun into view again, and he realized he had been _growling._ His teeth felt wrong in his mouth, his vision seemed different, the colors weren’t quite right…

His hands and feet were grotesquely stuck somewhere between human and wolf, not quite paws, not quite fingers or toes, either. His arms were entirely covered in thick, silver fur.

Jude stood in front of him, and as Ludger’s eyes came more into focus, he saw a weak, relieved smile cross his face.

“Hey, there you are, Ludger, stay with me alright?”

The true severity of the situation hit Ludger like a ton of bricks.

“I need to get to the basement.”

“I think you’ve got a handle on it now—”

 _“Jude.”_ His voice came out sharp. “This isn’t a risk I can take!”

Jude took a half step back, but nodded quickly. “...You’re right. I’ll go down with you to…” _Help chain you up,_ the words went unspoken. “Just to be safe.”

Ludger tried to stand, but his legs gave out from under him, his feet—paws?—no longer suited to carry a human. His wounded ankle screamed in pain as he went down, and he bit his tongue sharply, as was habit when dealing with these things. His sharpened canines sank easily into the flesh.

Jude knelt at his side, and quickly slid his arms beneath him to lift him, swiftly carrying him down the stairs while Ludger grunted in pain.

“You’re doing great,” Jude told him, and Ludger clung to those words. “I’m sorry I’m putting you through this… you don’t deserve to be a guinea pig.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ludger grunted, his bleeding tongue throbbing with the use. “You’re doing this for me. I’m… I’m still here. I can think. This is _progress.”_

It was jarring, terrifying, dangerous. But it was hopeful.

  


* * *

  


“Will it work?” Elle’s voice asked timidly from the staircase. She stood close to Leia’s side as Jude reluctantly secured the chains on Ludger’s still-injured limbs.

“We can only wait and find out,” Jude answered, as steadily as he could manage. He wanted to be confident in his work—but there were simply too many variables that couldn’t be tested until they gave it a shot.

Jude had wanted to pad Ludger’s wounds more before securing the chains on his ankles. The constant rubbing would ensure the injuries would never properly heal, but the fact was, if there was padding that the wolf could rip off, then the wolf could free itself more easily.

Even so, Ludger barely winced as Jude tightened the chains around the barely-bandaged wounds. At this depth, he’d likely suffered severe nerve damage.

Jude prayed this would be the last time he’d have to chain Ludger up like this.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, and Ludger nodded.

“I trust you,” he answered simply, and Jude’s heart ached.

There was no way to stay with him to observe the results—they needed to take these precautions, just in case—but the thought of Ludger transforming fully, alone with his thoughts, fully aware of the situation seemed almost as bad as leaving him to maim himself.

Jude nudged his shoulder gently with his fist. “We’ll be right upstairs,” he promised, “All of us. We’ll see you at dawn.”

Ludger nodded, and more of that determination Jude had once noticed hiding behind his fear seemed to take root.

Elle surged forward suddenly. She took Ludger’s silver hair in her little hands and planted a kiss on the top of his head.

“Be good, okay?”

Ludger let out a fond little sigh, and smiled. “Of course, Elle.”

  


* * *

  


The hours passed in eerie silence. Not a single howl echoed from the basement. Jude could only hope that was a good sign.

When the dawn broke at last, Elle grabbed onto his pant leg fearfully. “How can we count ten minutes if there are no howls?”

Jude smiled and put a hand on her head. “...I think it means we don’t have to,” he said, optimistically. “But let me go down first, okay?”

“Jude…” Leia piped up, concern in her voice, but he shook his head.

“Will you stay up here with Elle until I give the all clear?” he asked. Leia was hesitant, but she nodded.

“Be careful though, alright?”

“Of course,” Jude reassured her. He took the boards and locks off the of the door, one by one, and slowly descended into the dark basement.

As his eyes adjusted, Jude was able to make out the figure of a man slumped against the wall. Ludger was human—but he was unmoving.

Fearing the worst, Jude rushed forward and dropped to his side. “Ludger—”

But Ludger was awake. His head lifted just enough to acknowledge Jude, with tears in his eyes.

“Ludger, what’s wrong? Talk to me, what happened?”

He only shook his head. “It… worked.”

“It worked?”

“Yeah. I transformed, but I… could think clearly.”

Jude brought his hand up to Ludger’s cheek, gently wiping a tear away with his thumb.

Ludger closed his eyes. “Had too much time to think.”

“Ludger…”

“Is it safe?!” Elle called from the top of the stairs.

Jude smiled at Ludger, and gave him the space to answer.

“I’m okay, Elle!” Ludger called up to her, his voice a bit weak.

The girl came bounding down the steps in the dark, nearly throwing herself at Ludger, but checking first to make sure he really was unhurt.

As Elle clung to him, Ludger slowly curled forward around her, more tears falling from his eyes.

“Ludger…?” Leia asked softly, slowing to a stop beside the scene. Jude just shook his head, and she fell silent.

“Let’s get him unchained and help him upstairs,” he said softly, and Leia nodded. He felt his determination, he willingness to help, was reflected in her eyes.

  


* * *

  


“You just have to picture yourself as a wolf, and let go!” Elle attempted to explain, probably for the hundredth time.

“That doesn’t help me, Elle,” Ludger told her, but his voice was fond.

She transformed into a wolf as if to prove her point, then back again. “You can do it if you put your mind to it!” she insisted, “You couldn’t before, but you’re doing better now!”

Ludger just smiled at her and shrugged. “I’ll keep working at it,” he promised.

She transformed again and ran off among the apple trees. Ludger had to admit, the idea of running freely as a wolf with Elle seemed… incredibly freeing. Maybe one day he’d have the opportunity.

The drug had been considered a flying success. He’d managed to stay conscious through the night, even as his body fully transformed. The results were better than Jude had anticipated—

But the experience was still less than celebratory. Being chained to a wall in an unfamiliar body, an entirely foreign form, trapped in pitch darkness for upward of sixteen hours was… well, it wasn’t something he was eager to repeat.

The following month, they left the chains off. Jude was insistent that it was necessary for his wrists and ankles to heal, and with the help of the drug, he shouldn’t need any restraints.

Ludger still wasn’t ready to leave the basement. His mind still swam with the horror of what could happen, of what _did_ happen. He wasn’t sure that fear would ever leave him, just like the shiny scar tissue that slowly formed in place of the flesh that the chains had taken from him.

But that new tissue was forming. It would keep healing, keep strengthening itself, and maybe with time, it would fade ever so slightly.

A piece of his heart had been ripped from him, irreplaceably, and it was buried by the steps with his brother. But as his ankles healed, he was learning to walk more easily again.

The warm, evening breeze kissed his skin, and Elle’s howl reached him through the trees. He stood up from the grass—slowly, carefully, avoiding old injuries—and headed back to the house, where Jude and Leia sat waiting for him on the porch.


End file.
